


Whispered lies

by MilesLibertatis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anxiety, Heart-to-Heart, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Promptis, Self-Harm, chapter 13 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9596039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilesLibertatis/pseuds/MilesLibertatis
Summary: Prompto knows it's just banter, just teasing, but his anxiety tries to convince him he's wrong. Noctis finds him at the rooftop and they talk.It's sad. There are tears.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Basilton for proofreading and helping out, and to Zeg for the chocobo insults.

The tears dripped down his face, but the night air felt soothing against the streaks on his cheeks. Prompto took a shuddering breath, held it for a second and then exhaled. Sitting on the rooftop of the motel where they were spending the night, he tried to distract himself from his thoughts by watching the scenery. Although the building wasn’t tall, it provided a nice view of the sandy fields of Leide. Exactly what he needed right now.

Dinner had been fine. It really had. It had been the usual. Ignis was relieved he didn’t have to cook for once, but had criticised their meal without mercy. Gladio had shovelled his food down like there was no tomorrow, and Noctis had been half asleep. He himself had been going through his photographs of that day and everything was fine. Until that conversation happened.

“My hair is getting in the way,” Noctis mumbled, blowing air upwards and a few strands flew up.

“It has been a while since you had your last haircut,” Ignis agreed. “I’ll see if I can find a proper barber to set you up for an appointment.”

“Oh, can you make one for me too?” Prompto quipped, raising his hand. “My hair is getting too long to style!”

Gladio snorted from behind his book. “No matter what haircut you get you’ll always look like a chocobo.”

Prompto swallowed. It was meant as a joke, he knew, but it still hurt.

“Noctis,” Ignis’ stern voice suddenly sounded and Noctis flinched, caught in the act of shoving his leftover vegetables on Prompto’s plate. “Stop feeding your chocobo.”

_Stop it._

Noctis rolled his eyes but slunk back in his seat. “I gotta keep my chocobo fed, don’t I? Can’t let him starve.”

Prompto sent the prince a pleading look, but it seemed to go unnoticed. _Not you too._

Gladio laughed in the way only he did. “Gotta be careful he doesn’t get fat.”

Prompto smiled weakly. “Can’t get fat from vegetables, can I?” He joined in on the joke, although the words felt bitter on his tongue and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from the Leide’s sprouts.

 

But now that he was sitting on the edge of the rooftop, he could let his true feelings out. He knew they were just joking, that it was just his anxiety deceiving him, but that didn’t erase the pain that was deep in his chest, throbbing and making him nauseous. Calm down, he told himself. You know you’re wrong. That banter was nothing special. They always talk like this, and it's just their way of showing affection.

_But what if it’s not?_

He shook his head, willing the thoughts away. Gladio, Ignis and Noctis were his friends and they liked him. It was his anxiety talking, trying to convince him otherwise. They enjoyed the time they spent with him. They loved the photos he made, the puns and jokes, and appreciated his enthusiasm when it came to chocobos. And their way of showing it was by making jokes about it. Why else was he still with them? They wouldn’t have put up with him for so long if they really thought he only got in the way.

_You’re unwanted._

He wasn’t.

_They will find out the truth._

And they will accept me.

_But what if they don’t?_

Prompto took another shuddering breath. He felt more tears burn in his eyes and bit his lip. He didn’t belong here. There was nothing he could do about who he was and where he was born, but the truth determined he had no place here, amongst Lucian royalty and the future king of Lucis.

Still, they made him feel like he did belong. Even if they teased him – he was not a damn chocobo – they appreciated who he was.

But no matter what he told himself, the anxious thoughts kept gnawing at him. The reason Gladio and Ignis put up with him because he was Noctis’ friend, a voice whispered. He would never admit it out loud, but their remarks cut him deeper than he let on. Gladio complaining that everything was such a big deal to him when he was simply enjoying the fresh air after spending a long time in a dungeon. Ignis telling Gladio to just endure it and let him enjoy it “while he’s still alive”. And now that stupid comparison to a chocobo.

It hurt. It hurt so bad.

And what about Noctis? Did he still like him? Or was he getting fed up with him as well, after all the time they spent together in the car and cramped tent? He would understand. Honestly, he would. It’s tough, living so close to each other without any privacy or time alone at all. He was actually surprised they hadn’t left him at the nearest outpost yet. Or maybe at the chocobo ranch. He couldn’t help but chuckle through his tears. That would probably be the best place to dump him. Maybe he could get a job from Wiz, help out cleaning the stables and caring for the chocobos. Or participate in the races as a fucking chocobo himself.

A tear fell on his glove, right next to his barcode. Prompto froze and stared at his wrist. He slowly wiped away the tear. His fingers trailed down and pushed the bracelets aside.

There it was. The code print. Proof of the fact he shouldn’t exist. He choked back a sob. He had lost count of the times he had tried to get rid of it, times he had cursed it and wished it wasn’t there. Times he wished he was just a normal person. He gritted his teeth and unconsciously his nails dug into his skin. Once again he cursed his existence. Why couldn’t he disappear? He was sure he would be doing everyone a favour. Before he fully realised it he was scratching his wrist again. His usually pale skin was slowly turning an angry red and started burning. But then the pain finally registered and he snapped back to reality. He forced himself to stop and he brought his wrist up to study the damage. It wasn’t too bad this time, but there were small wounds nonetheless. The barcode was still there. Prompto smiled wryly. It looked exactly how he felt. Irritated and bleeding.

 

“Prompto?”

His head shot up and he looked over his shoulder. Noctis was standing in the door opening to the rooftop and giving him a concerned glance. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m-” He cut himself off when his voice squeaked unnaturally high and coughed. “I’m fine. Just enjoying the view.” He laughed weakly and cringed when he saw Noctis didn’t buy it.

“Bullshit,” Noctis called as he stepped forward and sat down next to him on the edge of the roof. “What’s bothering you?”

Prompto kept his gaze in front of him and stared. He slowly breathed out and didn’t speak a word, not knowing how to open up without worrying his friend, and most of all not knowing how to speak without crying again.

“I’m sorry about dinner,” Noctis broke the silence with remorseful look on his face.

Prompto glanced at him and shrugged. “’s okay,” he mumbled, but said no more. He pushed the bracelets around and tugged them over the damaged skin to hide his barcode, wincing when he felt the leather slide over the fresh wounds. He felt the questioning glances Noctis sent his way. It made him nervous and feel even worse. There was absolutely no need for the prince to worry about him, a wreck of a civilian.

When it became clear he wouldn’t talk, Noctis sighed and stood up. “I’ll leave you alone then.”

Prompto’s heart leapt in his throat. Alone. He couldn’t be alone. Not with his thoughts. “No!” he exclaimed, louder than he had meant to, and his hand tightly gripped Noctis’ wrist. “Please… just- sit with me…”

Noctis seemed surprised, something Prompto simultaneously did and didn’t understand. He was silent for a moment, just watching him, but sat back down again.

Prompto swallowed and rubbed his sore wrist. He felt Noctis’ gaze on him again. How to open up? He took a deep breath and when he was sure he wouldn’t immediately start crying again, he spoke up. “I just… feel worthless,” he said with a laboured voice. He briefly glanced at Noctis before looking down again. “I feel disconnected. Like nobody actually likes me and is just putting up with me because they have to. Things I say get ignored or shot down. And people laugh about it.” He swallowed when he felt his throat getting thick again. “It’s like I’m not taken seriously at all and no one actually wants me there.” His fingers unconsciously found his code print again and he fumbled with the bracelets hiding it. “I’m not a fucking chocobo. I just want to be appreciated. Wanted.” He bit his lip. “Loved…”

Silence fell between them once again. His heart was beating erratically. What was Noctis thinking? Was it all true? Shit, he hated not being able to read his stupid, perfect, impassable face. He usually was an open book, so why not now? He felt more tears coming. He never should have spoken up and voiced his feelings. He shouldn’t have-

“That’s what’s been bothering you?”

Prompto froze. Looked away in shame. He tightly shut his eyes and prepared himself for the worst. But then he felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked back at the prince with wide eyes. Noctis was wearing a soft, sad smile.

“There’s no need for you to feel like that,” he said. “Your presence is invaluable. When things get tough, you’re here to make us see the bright side. When we’re tired, you motivate us. When we miss home, you’re here to bring a smile to our face. And in battle you have saved us more times than I can count.” Noctis squeezed Prompto’s shoulder. “So don’t you think you’re worthless. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Prompto shook his head, but mirrored Noctis’ smile. “You’re too good for me,” he whispered, voice breaking at the end.

“Right back at you,” Noctis said with a smile and pulled the man against him. “You mean so much to me,” he spoke against his hair. “More than you realise.”

The change of “we” to “me” went unnoticed at first, but when Prompto finally registered that fact, his eyes widened again. He glanced up at the prince. “I-… Noct, you could have anyone. Why settle for me?”

Noctis smiled. “Because it’s you.”

Prompto felt his heart skip a beat and he buried his face in Noctis’ chest to hide his tears from his friend. His anxiety was still taunting him, whispering lies, but in Noctis’ arms he only heard the truth in words of strong arms around him and soft heartbeats in his ears.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this was a vent fic I wrote because I wasn't feeling too good and Prompto is so relatable. I didn't expect it to be any good, but it somehow it turned out longer than anything I've written in years? I hope it was pretty okay nonetheless. Please let me know what you think!
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


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